


Through the Veins of History

by leontina (Leontina), shiftylinguini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: History of Magic, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4346522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/pseuds/shiftylinguini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts curriculum is being updated, and Unspeakable Draco devises a Time-Watch which will allow History of Magic students to safely go into the past to view historical scenes. Harry is roped into doing the first test-run with Draco, and things go well until they break the Time-Watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Veins of History

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's/Artist's Notes:** Author’s Note: I want to send special thanks to my partner, who stepped in as a pinch-hitter at the last minute, which is very appreciated and I am super grateful for all her help. Pinch-hitters make the world go round :D
> 
> I also want to thank my old partner, who unfortunately had to drop. She really helped with story ideas, and the fic wouldn’t be what it is without her.
> 
> Artist's Note: This was really fun, and I had a blast drawing for it.  
>  **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

The smoky bar was packed with people, most of whom were cramped together as they watched the live feed of the final of the British Quidditch League Cup. It was basically like a Muggle television, but only existed temporarily by use of magic.

It was the Holyhead Harpies versus Puddlemere United, with Oliver Wood as Puddlemere’s Keeper and Ginny as one of the Harpies’ Chasers. Despite the fact that Harry and Ginny had been separated for several years now, he still supported Ginny and the Harpies, and so was craning his neck to try and get a good look at how the match was going.

Hermione had chosen a table far away from the bar where the screen was located, meaning Harry kept having to look past a mass of people who kept jumping up excitedly every time their team even came close to scoring.

Harry sucked in a breath as Ginny took a shot at a goal but was stopped by - and he would never admit this to Ginny - a rather spectacular save. 

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, waving a hand in front of his face. Harry’s attention was drawn back to his friend, who was glowering at him darkly. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure I am,” Harry lied, nodding his head. “It’s really interesting; you’re so right.”

Harry had hoped telling Hermione she was right would get her to ease off, but of course she did no such thing.

“What have I been talking about, then?” Hermione looked at him pointedly, tapping her fingers on the table in a beat of _one, two, one two_.

“Work,” Harry answered confidently, because he _did_ know Hermione had been speaking about her job. It was just the details he was a bit sketchy on.

Hermione worked in the Department of Magical Education, in some fancy title with too many words that Harry couldn’t remember. All Harry knew was that Hermione was working on reforming Hogwart’s curriculum, and she liked to talk about it a lot. Harry, unlike Ron, was too polite to tell Hermione to shut up and instead just tuned out, but it was Harry’s politeness that made him the target for Hermione’s attention. 

“Care to be more specific?” Hermione pressed; Harry rolled his eyes.

He decided to give in. “You and I both know I wasn’t listening, Hermione. Ginny’s playing really well, but so’s Oliver. Why did you pick a pub with live Quidditch playing?”

“Because it’s rowdy and nobody’s paying any attention to us,” Hermione said, pressing her fingers into the table as she stood. “Switch seats with me.”

“What? Why?” Harry protested, shrinking back when Hermione came round to his side and stood over him. 

“So you don’t get distracted,” Hermione stated, tapping the top of his chair.

Harry grumbled under his breath about the injustice of it all as he got to his feet and moved to the seat which Hermione had just departed. Almost as soon as he turned his back, half the room cheered loudly and the other half groaned.

“Puddlemere just scored,” Hermione supplied, smiling gently at Harry as she settled into Harry’s old seat. “Now, what I was telling you was that I’ve finished editing the new History of Magic textbook. I’ve compiled accounts of a better variety of historical events, and revamped the textbook design. Can I show you it?”

Without waiting for his answer, Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny book. A quick spell enlarged it to its regular size, revealing a colourful textbook make from shiny paper rather than the hard, thick binding that most of Harry’s books had been made from. On the front cover in big red letters it read: _History of Magic: Year One_ , and had artwork of two duelling wizards, one of whom was wearing a golden crown engraved with silver jewels. 

“This is very...Muggle,” Harry described, for lack of a better word. Harry’s books always looked like they were centuries old, even when they were only recently written, but he knew he’d have much preferred a textbook with nice colourful pictures and bright writing. “Has Binns approved of this?”

“Professor Binns has...retired,” Hermione said slowly, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“Fired, you mean?” Harry grinned; it was about time they ceased the suffering students faced when confronted with a class taught by Professor Binns.

“No!” Hermione defended hotly, but she too smiled. “He was, uh, very strongly encouraged to give up his teaching position. However he’s sent a postcard to say he’s very happy now; he’s living in a retirement complex for ghosts in Florida.”

Harry reached for the book and began absently flicking through the pages. Occasionally there would be a bubble mark containing a ‘fun fact’, but Harry didn’t actually have a read of anything. At the end of the day, it was still History of Magic, which had easily been the most boring subject.

He relayed this to Hermione. “I think you’re going to need more than a flashy textbook to get kids interested in History of Magic.”

He expected Hermione to go off on a rant about how all students needed was the right stimulus or something, and then maybe he could strain his ears to try and find the commentator’s voice amongst the crowd, but instead Hermione smiled and nodded eagerly.

“You’re exactly right, Harry,” Hermione agreed, flipping the pages of the textbook back to the first chapter. “I’ve been in contact with an Unspeakable and the two of us have been devising a device which would allow students to go _into_ the past, in a sense, like a cross between a Pensieve and a Time-Turner.”

Harry frowned. Pensieves were one thing, but Time-Turners…

“Is that even safe?” he commented, not even intrigued when the crowd roared again. “Time-Turners were a bit dodgy, weren’t they? I thought you were pleased when they all got destroyed.”

“That’s because Time-Turners can be used for changing events, whereas this spell is simply designed for surveillance.” Hermione slammed the textbook shut and patted the front cover. “But you’re right; there are safety risks, which is why the Unspeakable is going to be doing a test-run soon. In fact that’s what I really wanted to talk to you about.”

Hermione suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes, and Harry had a strong suspicion as to what she was getting at.

“So this Unspeakable wants me to do this test-run with him? Why? Who is he?” Harry questioned, frowning when Hermione met his gaze for a split second before looking over his shoulder again.

“You know I can’t divulge his identity, Harry,” Hermione said sternly, finally pulling her focus back on him. “You’ll know who he is when you meet him, though; it’s pretty obvious if you know him - which you do. He wanted an Auror-”

“So you suggested the Auror who’s only four years out of training rather than one of the highly advanced ones?” Harry interrupted,leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow quizzically. 

“Four years out of training is a long time, Harry, I didn’t suggest you actually,” Hermione huffed, flicking her eyes to the screen when the crowd cheered again. “The Seekers have spotted the Snitch, I think. Oh, he requested you,” Hermione added after Harry twisted around to try and watch the Seeker’s race. 

Hermione’s words snapped his attention back to her. 

“You mean someone requested the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Defeater of Voldemort, and all round reluctant _Golden Boy_ ,” here, Harry shuddered. “To join him?”

“He doesn’t care about all that, trust me,” Hermione said with a shudder of her own. “Please, Harry; I need this test-run doing before I can submit my work to the Department Head, and this Unspeakable is refusing to work with anyone else. He says won’t do it with anyone else; he wants the one person he knows is used to this sort of stuff.”

“Well he isn’t wrong on that count.” Harry sighed, but a small smile crept onto his face as he recounted his time travelling expedition when he was thirteen. “Okay, Hermione, I’ll do it. For you, though; not this stuffy sounding Unspeakable.”

Hermione beamed, just as the crowd erupted into it’s loudest cheers yet, drowning out the groans that ran alongside it.

Hermione explained. “Ginny caught the Snitch,” she said.

***

Harry’s heart rate picked up as he strode briskly through the Department of Mysteries. He had once found the shiny black tiles and soft blue flames beautiful and alluring, but now the place only brought back memories of Sirius which Harry would rather repress.

He made it to the Time Chamber in record time. The Chamber didn’t hold as many bad memories for Harry, and without the need to duel Death Eaters he was truly able to appreciate it. The candlelight lit up like diamonds and illuminated the black marble of the walls, and hundreds of clocks hung around him, ticking relentlessly. 

There were no Unspeakables in the room, so Harry wandered past the empty desks and knocked on the office door which read the number Hermione had given him. The door creaked open, and a deep voice commanded “enter”. 

Harry rolled his eyes at the dramatic display and entered the room; the door swung shut behind him on its own accord.

The Unspeakable’s office was similar to the Time-Chamber, filled with incessantly ticking clocks, but there were also portraits on the wall depicting various historical scenes. The one behind the man’s desk portrayed a scene of goblins fighting wizards, while a lone goblin and two men - one light-haired and the other dark - watched on, turned away from the world outside the portrait. 

The Unspeakable himself was sat in his chair in front of the portrait, the hood of his dark blue robes pulled up to obscure his face. 

“Greetings, Potter,” the man said, voice purposefully dropped to make it deeper. “You are in my domain now.”

The Unspeakable may have had his hood up and been disguising his voice, but Harry only knew one person who enunciated that clearly, in a way that only the aristocratic upper-class did. 

“Lay off it, Malfoy,” Harry scoffed. “Your Mr Mystery act just looks ridiculous.”

The Unspeakable huffed and threw his hood back, indeed revealing Malfoy, with his pointed jaw, perfectly straight nose, neat blond hair, and sharp cheekbones. Harry could reluctantly admit that Malfoy was rather easy on the eyes, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a git and probably wasn’t going to be the easiest person to work with. Hermione owed Harry, big time. 

For somebody who had specifically requested Harry’s presence, Malfoy didn’t look very happy to see him, or maybe that was just because Harry had seen through Malfoy’s dramatic façade.

“Granger wasn’t allowed to tell you my identity,” Malfoy said sharply, eyes brightening as he added, “she could get into a lot of trouble for that.”

“She didn’t; I recognised your obnoxious posh accent.” Harry dropped into the chair opposite Malfoy’s without being invited. “She didn’t tell me much about this new _device_ of yours, either.”

“She couldn’t have done,” Malfoy said complacently. “Only I know all the intricate details, and even you are only going to be told the bare minimum. This idea may have been concepted between Granger and I, but I’m the one who devised the magic.”

“Don’t sound so smug, Malfoy.” Harry rolled his eyes, and folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s wait for this test-run to go smoothly before you go claiming all the credit.”

“It _will_ go smoothly,” Malfoy said confidently, leaning back in his chair and spreading his hands in front of him. “I’ll explain to you what you need to know, but I’ll make sure to speak slowly and not use big words.”

“That’s no problem,” Harry deadpanned. “I prefer small words, anyway; _dickhead_ springs to mind, right now.”

“One could technically argue that ‘dickhead’ is a big word, if you count small words being words with only a single syllable,” Malfoy mused, raising his brows and smirking. 

“Get on with it, Malfoy,” Harry huffed.

Malfoy cleared his throat, and reached into a drawer on his desk. He pulled out two gold pocket watches, one slightly larger than the other. He passed the smaller one to Harry, who saw that there were two hands but no numbers on the watch, and right at the bottom there were six small dials with numbers on.

“These are Time-Watches; the larger of these watches is for the teacher,” Malfoy explained, “and the smaller one for each student.” Malfoy tapped his Watch with his wand, and a golden thread materialised in the air and floated over to meet Harry’s Watch; it was only on close examination that Harry realised the thread was not solid and was in fact tiny, thickly pressed specks of golden dust. 

“The professor will be the only one in control,” Malfoy continued, “but Granger wanted to try and come up with a technique to help the students remember important dates and places, so we came up with this. Each person will enter a date by spinning the dials to the appropriate numbers for the day, month, and year - giving students a practical reason to learn the date - and the professor will activate the Time-Watch by speaking the desired location. For example, if I wanted to return to the Battle of Hogwarts, I would spin the dials to _02, 05, 1998_ , and say ‘ _Hogwarts.’_ ”

“Why would you want to return there?” Harry asked with a shudder. “What if you did return there? Would you be able to change things?”

Malfoy shook his head, offering Harry a rare, though not quite friendly, smile. “This isn’t a Time-Turner; it doesn’t take you back in time, but rather it takes you to a sort of _memory_ of time. But rather than being restrictive like a Pensieve, users are allowed free movement throughout the world at that particular time period. Say I used the Watch to return to the Battle of Hogwarts because I, I don’t know, wanted to kill Granger; any attempt I might make would never work, because that timeline has already happened. However, say Granger _had_ died at the Battle, hit by a mysterious spell that nobody saw coming - if I used the Watch to go to the Battle to kill Granger and my attempt worked, then that means I had already killed her.”

“That makes no sense, or maybe it does, a little bit. ” Harry said, shaking his head. Time travel was confusing, like the time Harry had known to cast the Patronus spell because he had already seen himself do it. 

“Time-Watches only allow you to see the past, however there is a timeline somewhere ahead of us where we tried this experiment for the first time, and it is _that_ version of us which shaped our history. It’s very simple to understand when you’ve studied time for as long as I have. You don’t need to worry about it, Potter; you’re simply here to provide defensive magic if needed, but I have taken measures to try and prevent the need for that.”

“Which are?” Harry pressed.

“There is an in-built cloaking charm, which will turn users invisible to anyone else,” Malfoy answered, running his thumb over the Time-Watch. Malfoy was looking down at it with a proud gleam in his eyes. He truly seemed pleased with his work, but not in the arrogant way that one might expect from Malfoy. “And as an extra precaution, user’s clothes will be transformed into something more historically accurate should the cloaking charm fail; that way they’ll blend in.”

Harry nodded; it seemed like Malfoy had thought of everything. 

That was for the best, though; hopefully Harry would be able to go along for the ride and for once have everything go smoothly. 

***

Despite the fact that Harry was with Malfoy, he still couldn’t help but feel excited by the prospect of the task which they were about to undertake. It would be an adventure, something Harry had not really had since the death of Voldemort. The familiar adrenaline pumping through his veins was more exhilarating than he remembered - and there was no way that any fraction of that feeling was due to Malfoy’s close proximity to him while Malfoy double-checked the Time-Watch around Harry’s neck.

When Malfoy was satisfied - which seemed to take a while considering how confident Malfoy was about his creation - he stepped back and nodded, and pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket with numbers scrawled across it.

“Can’t remember historical dates from school, Malfoy?” Harry teased when he realised what the numbers meant. Admittedly, it wasn’t like Harry could actually remember any dates, but he wasn’t the one who literally worked with time. 

“I was cursed with Professor Binns, too, Potter,” Malfoy pointed out, rolling his eyes. “I lost interest during his first lecture on the Goblin Rebellions, and I never found it again.”

Harry smiled, pleased to find something in common with Malfoy which they didn’t argue about. “All I know was that there _were_ Goblins Rebellions and wars involving giants. I never read the textbook Hermione gave me.”

“As far as she knows, you did,” Malfoy said with a small smile of his own. “I told Granger that you and I had had a _riveting_ conversation about it while we planned our destinations.”

“But instead you picked them from the contents page?” Harry guessed, grinning.

“The destination doesn’t matter,” Malfoy stated matter-of-factly, ignoring the question and tipping his chin up, holding his Time-Watch like it was his most prized possession. “All that matters is that everything goes without a hitch. We’re going to start off in the Hogwart’s Founders period, and we’ll go to four more afterwards to ensure that I meet the minimum requirement for effective testing regulations. Enter _24, 08, 0990_ ” Malfoy directed, and when Harry had spun the dials to the correct numbers Malfoy uttered, “Hogwarts.”

Harry had expected the journey to be like a Portkey, uncomfortable and overwhelming, but it was quite the opposite. It felt like the space immediately surrounding Harry and Malfoy had come to a standstill while the rest of the world spun around them, racing so fast that all Harry could see was a golden blur. It was like he was in the middle of a golden tunnel, and even Malfoy was looking around in awe.

It came to a stop all at once, and it took a moment for Harry to comprehend that they weren’t in the Ministry anymore. They had appeared in what could only be the Great Hall - Harry knew no other room in Hogwarts which was as large as it - but there were small, circular tables in place of the longer ones, there were no hourglasses or shining suit of armour, and when Harry looked up the high ceiling he found it was nothing but a ceiling - the weather enchantment hadn’t yet been put on it. 

Malfoy nudged him in the side with his elbow. “Potter! he hissed, and when Harry turned to him Malfoy jerked his head towards a table which had four people seated around it. 

The people - who Harry could only assume were the Founders - hadn’t noticed Harry or Malfoy, which could only mean that Malfoy’s cloaking charm had worked. Out of curiosity, Harry looked down and noticed that his clothes were now fairly tight fitting and basic, tied in places with crossed over string - rather on the peasant side. That being said, his open robe was lined with velvet and his boots were thick and sturdy, which have the impression of wealth. Malfoy, of course, looked like an aristocratic wizard from the past would; traditional robes with intricate beading and a lace tie, fashioned with a hooded cloak at the back. Malfoy’s shoes were curled, and Harry swore Dumbledore had once worn shoes just like them.

Harry took a couple of steps closer to the group, despite Malfoy’s indignant noise, and when they didn’t show any reaction to him he moved even closer, where he concluded that the people were definitely the Founders.

Helga Hufflepuff was a sweet looking thing, with blonde hair, rosy cheeks against her otherwise fair complexion, and dressed in robes of bright yellow which was corseted around the waist. Rowena Ravenclaw was on her left, wearing similar robes but in a shade of deep blue. Rowena was as beautiful as her daughter, with olive skin and straight black hair which fell down her back. Next to her was Salazar Slytherin, clothed in emerald green, who had a similar complexion to Rowena, perhaps a bit deeper, and his dark hair was straggly and long, though his beard was trimmed neatly to his chin. Godric Gryffindor was dark-skinned, and to no surprise, his robes were red; he reminded Harry a bit of a lion with the way his thick hair framed his face. 

They all looked very serious, though Salazar seemed to be most of all. 

“Our student’s safety is our number one priority,” Salazar hissed. Malfoy shifted uncomfortably behind Harry, and he too must have noticed the similarity to Voldemort’s voice. “We can’t go letting outsiders-”

“Magical children born to Muggles are not outsiders,” Helga cut in sharply, while Rowena and Godric nodded in agreement. “If they have magic then they deserve to learn how to control it.” 

“But what of their God-fearing families, ashamed of their children for committing what is a sin to them? They would hunt us down and kill us,” Salazar protested darkly, his eyes flashing over threateningly. “As I’ve said, I cannot stop the rest of _you_ teaching their kind,” emphasising the word ‘you’ with much contempt, “but I demand that my students are safe.”

“What are you proposing, Salazar?” Godric asked sharply, looking at his companion warily, as though he had heard all of this before. “What could possibly be safer than the walls of Hogwarts?”

“Even if the walls are breached,” Rowena continued, “the people within them will all have magic. Do you not think we can defend ourselves from Muggles?”

“And for the child with uncontrolled magic who is caught alone?” Salazar snapped, slamming his hands onto the table. “Does that child not deserve something to help them while they are not able to? And what of those children born from Muggles who will be jealous of those with purer blood? How else can we protect them from trickery or deceit, leading to attack? We need something within these walls!”

Godric laughed, the sound rumbling from his throat. He reminded Harry a bit of Sirius and - from what he knew of him - his own father, and Harry found he had a liking for Godric. “You’re a paranoid old fool, Salazar.”

Helga laid a hand gently on Godric’s. “What he means, Salazar, is that we will teach our students a message of love and respect.”

“And we can defend ourselves from the outside world if needs be,” Rowena added. “We will teach the children defensive magic; we don’t need whatever it is you’re suggesting.”

Salazar stood from the table so fast that everyone around him jumped. “You’re all wrong,” he hissed menacingly to his companions, “and when there is suffering you will only have yourselves to blame.”

Salazar proceeded to storm towards the main doors, his green robes fluttering around him in a way that was befitting to the Muggle supervillains Harry had seen on the telly. 

Without asking Malfoy, Harry began following Salazar quickly, beyond intrigued as to where the man was going.

“Potter!” Malfoy whispered urgently, running and catching up to Harry. “Where are you going?”

“I want to see if he’s going to the Chamber,” Harry answered, darting to get through the door before it shut behind Salazar. 

As he and Malfoy passed through the doorway, there was a fleeting moment where Harry’s skin became icy cold, but then it stopped and Harry thought nothing of it until Salazar turned around and stared at them as though he could see them.

“Who are you and what business do you have being here?” Salazar questioned suspiciously, pulling his wand from his robes and training it on them both, confirming that he _could_ see them.

Malfoy and Harry shared a glance; Harry’s saying ‘why has your spell failed?’ and Malfoy’s saying ‘you’re here for defence in situations like this’.

Taking the lead because he knew that Malfoy wouldn’t, Harry stepped towards Salazar with his hands in the air. Salazar looked at his hands as though he thought Harry bizarre, and Harry supposed that that gesture wasn’t yet known.

“I’ve come to see you, Slytherin,” Harry said, trying to make himself sound confident and sure. An idea came to Harry’s mind, and though he knew that Malfoy said that they couldn’t change the past, it was worth a shot. “I come as a fellow… _serpent speaker_ ,” he tried, switching to Parseltongue which he knew now only from memory, “to tell you that your _idea_ is unwise.”

“Potter,” Malfoy warned, tugging on Harry’s sleeve but Harry ignored him. Salazar’s gaze lingered on Malfoy’s hand, which made the blond quickly pull it away. 

“And which idea might that be, young serpent-tongue?” Salazar asked lightly, looking at Harry through dark lashes. He seemed to have taken to Harry since hearing the Parseltongue - he had even lowered his wand slightly - but Harry had to admit he preferred the intimidating Salazar to the charming one. 

“About your plan for a monster in the school,” Harry declared, shifting on his feet as Malfoy reached against him to turn the dials on Harry’s Time-Watch. “It’s unwise to bring a Basilisk into the castle.”

“A Basilisk,” Salazar repeated, stroking his beard and not taking his eyes off Harry.

“They’re very unpredictable, and they show no loyalty,” Harry said quickly, knowing Malfoy would soon be taking them away. “They may claim to worship their human serpent-speaking father, but a single look would be all it takes to kill you.”

“A Basilisk,” Salazar said again as Malfoy turned to his own Time-Watch. “A serpent with the ability to kill with a single look. What a brilliant idea; a creature that only I can speak with. Thank you, young serpent-tongue.”

“Wait, no!” Harry protested, horrified at Salazar’s words. “You can’t-” but he never got to finish his sentence, because Malfoy had said, “Kendrick Palace,” and Salazar disappeared in a blur of gold.

***

The empty room in the castle that morphed around them as the golden tunnel fell away was vastly more impressive than Hogwarts, with paintings on the wall depicting men wearing golden crowns, silver chandeliers which had candles burning with a bright flame, and a red rug leading to some stone steps and a platform which held two thrones which were embedded with silver jewels. 

Their clothing now was far different than before, and once again Harry found himself dressed like a peasant. His simple tunic top was uneven in length, and his knee-length bottoms were ratty and left Harry feeling very vulnerable. It was worth looking like a trashy peasant, however, when he caught sight of Malfoy. Malfoy wore a very regal shirt, puffed up in the chest with tighter sleeves, and which had a ruffled collar. The top half of Malfoy’s trousers were also puffy, wide and patterned with swirls, and they too had far tighter fabric at the bottom of them, falling to the knees. Harry thought Malfoy looked ridiculous, but Malfoy was looking very pleased with his attire.

“What the hell were you thinking, Potter?” Malfoy snarled, shoving Harry in the arm. “You thought you’d speak to Salazar Slytherin about Basilisks?!”

Distracted by their new surroundings, Harry had temporarily forgotten that fact. Fuck; if Malfoy’s theory about time and the Time-Watch had been right, then Harry had been the reason all along that there had been a Basilisk in Hogwarts.

“Fuck!” Harry hissed, burying his face in his hands. He brought them down from his face when he realised Malfoy was shifting all of the blame onto him. “Your cloaking charm failed!” he stated wildly, pointing towards Malfoy accusingly. “If that had held then I’d have never had chance to speak to Slytherin.”

“It happened after you ran through the doors,” Malfoy uttered distastefully, as though he still believed he had no share in the blame. “If we had stayed put-”

“We shouldn’t have had to have stayed put,” Harry argued. “According to you we should have free reign.”

“I said no such thing,” Malfoy spat. His fists were clenched, and he slowly unfolded them as he took a deep breath. “Of course we won’t have free reign; do you really think the magic is powerful enough to create an entire world in a different time period for us to explore? It’s limited, and my own magic would become less strong the further we got away from the source, but I had presumed that we would be able to go further than a single room.”

“Well let’s see how it goes this time,” Harry said with a shrug. He was so used to arguing with Malfoy that it felt second-nature to just brush it off. Besides, despite arguing, Malfoy wasn’t quite so bad; he wasn’t mean-spirited or spiteful like he had been in his younger years. “Where are we anyway? It looks like it belongs to a king,”

“Kendrick Palace - the residence of the last magical royal family,” Malfoy explained, looking around the room with awe in his eyes. 

“I never knew we had a royal family,” Harry murmured, shuffling his boots against the floor. He had been in the Wizarding World for fourteen years and there was still so much he didn’t know about it; Binns and his curriculum should have been scrapped long ago. 

“Father used to tell me stories of the Royal Kendricks,” Malfoy said, running his fingers against a tapestry which showed a battle scene with red and green light rather than swords and horses. “He mocked them, of course; they were born into leadership but were overthrown by people who made their own success. Had my father _been_ a royal, he’d have said the opposite. The date I sent us to is slightly before the abolition of the magical monarchy, so the king and queen should be around somewhere.”

“Do you think the cloaking charm will hold up this time?” Harry asked as he looked towards the door. Despite their historically accurate clothing, Harry couldn’t trust that they’d necessarily fit in with royals; Malfoy may have been brought up as an aristocrat, but Harry certainly hadn’t. 

“Perhaps,” Malfoy answered, his lip curling. “As you’re here for this purpose, you should go first.”

“Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes, but he’d have volunteered to do it anyway; Malfoy always got his blood pumping. 

Harry walked towards the door with Malfoy close behind him. He could hear voices the other side of the door, but knowing they had a test to do - and also being a little bit curious - Harry pushed the door open.

A woman in a corseted dress with long, dangling sleeves cast Harry and Malfoy a curious look, confirming that the cloaking charm wasn’t working, but she simply turned her gaze away from them and continued the conversation she was having with an older man.

Most of the people in the room seemed to be guards. There were a few women in similar style dresses to the first woman, but everyone else was male and clothed in grey robes which had an image of two wands crossed over a crown blazoned on the left side of the chest. 

One of the men caught Harry’s eye and winked for some reason, and then an elderly man appeared by their side and began ushering them out of the room.

“This isn’t a place for, ah.... _peasants_ ,” the man said gently as he led them away, giving Harry in particular a distasteful look. “I know it’s exciting to see the palace, but if his Majesty caught you-”

“I’m not a peasant,” Malfoy protested hotly, and this time it was Harry’s turn to elbow him. “I’m from the Malfoy family.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he bent into a bow. 

“Ah, I beg your pardon, Sir. I’m terribly sorry.” Malfoy nodded his head as if to tell the man it was alright. “I wasn’t aware that the Malfoy family took whores,” the man continued, gesturing to Harry who spluttered. 

Malfoy laughed - the first genuine laughter Harry had heard from him - and bowed his head as he slapped Harry on the arse. “He’s a feisty one, this one; wanted to see the inside of the castle.”

The old man chuckled. “Luxury is so very curious to the poor. Still, his Majesty doesn’t like their kind this far into the castle, so…”

“Don’t worry; we’re leaving,” Malfoy smiled, hooking his arm with Harry’s and leading him away.

“What the hell, Malfoy?” Harry hissed once they were out of earshot of the man. “I’m your whore?!” He absently rubbed at his sore arse from where Malfoy had slapped him, trying to push down the side of him which had enjoyed it.

“Not a very good one considering I didn’t get laid,” Malfoy shot back, and Harry smiled in spite of himself. “How else was I meant to explain what a half-blood was doing in the palace? Oh, don’t look at me like that; blood purity ideals were a lot stronger in these days.”

“Whatever, like they could even tell I was a half-blood,” Harry said, shrugging his arm out of Malfoy’s. “But why isn’t your cloaking charm working? I thought it was built in to the device. Have you tried doing it again?”

“Of course I have; do you think I’m stupid?” Malfoy snarled, stopping in his tracks and fixing Harry with a dark glare. “Turn your Time-Watch to all zeros; as you seem so pleased to point out, this mission’s obviously failed so we might as well go back home.”

“No, Malfoy; we can see where it’s gone wrong and try and fix it. Stop trying to turn-” Harry reached for the Watch around Malfoy’s neck, his fingers closing around Malfoy’s as Malfoy tried to turn the dials.

They both tugged at the metal; Malfoy hissed as Harry’s nails scratched his skin and Harry winced as Malfoy’s free hand tried to slap Harry’s away. 

It was only slow creaking and a hissing noise coming from the Time-Watch which made them both freeze, and when the Watch began to smoke both their hands fell away in a hurry.

“Potter!” Malfoy exclaimed accusingly, but then a force hit them, like a massive wall of magic pushing them forwards and off their feet. The world turned gold for a split second, and then everything was back to the way it was; or so Harry thought.

He could hear lots of shouting and could smell burning. Harry met Malfoy’s alarmed gaze, and not caring if Malfoy followed or not, Harry jumped to his feet and started running towards the commotion.

“Potter!” Malfoy cried again, though this time he sounded almost concerned.

Harry ignored him, pressing onwards despite the smell getting stronger and the shouts getting louder with every step he took. 

When he finally reached the room where the uproar was coming from, there was a moment when Harry thought he was back at the Battle of Hogwarts. There were wizards fighting; the ones in grey from earlier duelling furiously with red-robed wizards, while the castle burned around them. 

A man and woman who could only be the king and queen were cowering on their thrones, protected by a shimmering grey shield which the ones in red kept trying to break, held back by the grey wizards. 

Nobody paid any attention to Harry - or Malfoy, who had just appeared panting behind Harry - too busy duelling one another. 

“You!” a voice hissed, and the old man from just minutes ago - at least for Harry and Malfoy - appeared from the chaos, his skin mucky with ash and with blood dripping down his forehead. “It’s the traitors!” he declared, clutching his side as he spoke. 

The king heard the man’s cry, and scared blue eyes met Harry’s from across the room. “Seize them!” the king shouted. “I want them beheaded for treason!”

One of the wizards in grey turned his wand on Harry, but before Harry could defend himself a wizard in red had thrown up a shielding charm around him and Malfoy.

“We demand democracy and fair trials,” he roared, and the wizards in red cheered, spurred on by his words as they took the grey wizards out in numbers. “Leave here,” the man said to Harry and Malfoy, “and know that you have a place in the greatest upheaval in our world!”

Malfoy was desperately trying to turn the dials on his broken Time-Watch, but Harry paid no attention as a pained cry shot through the room.

Harry met eyes with the king once more as the shield around the thrones fell. There was a blast of green light, and the king’s eyes met Harry’s no more. 

And then everything became gold again. 

***

When the world became real again, it took only seconds for Harry to realise that they were in Diagon Alley - or at least Diagon Alley in an earlier form. 

It was night, but it was easy to make out that the cobbled street was no different to the street it was now; the crooked shop fronts were all the same, but with different signs above them, barely legible in the weak candlelight coming from the walls . The most obvious difference was that where Gringotts should be was instead barren land which had been fenced off. 

“What went wrong?” Harry asked, spinning around to face Malfoy who was looking around Diagon Alley with a grimace on his face. “Weren’t you meant to be taking us home?”

“The dials are broken,” Malfoy stated plainly. He held up his Time-Watch and sighed deeply. “I didn’t even need to change yours; I was spinning them round and suddenly it changed without me even saying anything.”

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, clutching the Time-Watch tightly in shaking fingers. The time to shift the blame was gone; they were both at fault - Harry arguably more so, not that he’d admit that to Malfoy - but the fact remained that the Time-Watch was broken and they were stuck until they figured out how to fix it. And it wasn’t just that they were stuck; Malfoy, like Hermione, was a perfectionist, and the Time-Watch had been his invention. Harry knew from watching Hermione that perfectionists liked things to go smoothly, and the trial-run had been anything but. 

“What do the numbers say now?” Harry asked gently, trying to keep his voice calm. A fleeting thought urged him to hold Malfoy’s hand, but Harry pushed that thought aside, no matter how nice the idea seemed.

Malfoy opened his eyes and looked down at the Watch’s dials. “ _24, 12, 1746_.” 

Out of mundane curiosity, Harry looked down at his clothes. He and Malfoy were both in very similar outfits this time, in a long, button-down shirt and woolen jacket. Their trousers were once again knee length - this seemed to be all the rage in the past, apparently- and there was just a hint of skin between where their trousers ended and their boots began.

Malfoy, meanwhile, was frowning as he reached into his pocket while he asked, “isn’t that around the time the main Goblin Rebellion started?”

Harry shrugged - as if there was any way that he’d know that - but whipped his head away from Malfoy as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“Aha!” Malfoy shouted, clenching his fist in front of him, and that time Harry definitely did see movement from the side. “I was a year off; the Goblin Rebellion starts next year- Potter, where are you going now?”

Harry had broken into a run after seeing a small figure sprinting towards the fence around where Gringotts should be. Harry jumped over the wooden planks as the figure crawled under it, and drew his wand as the creature went to pull up a trap door.

“Wait!” Harry shouted, casting _Lumos_.

In the light, Harry could see the figure more clearly as it turned around, and he was surprised to see that it was a goblin dressed in dirty rags, with his face muddy and hair matted with dirt. 

The goblin looked terrified, trembling from head to toe and holding his hands shakily in the air. As he held his hands up in surrender the goblin dropped the bag he had been holding, and a shiny red apple rolled out onto the frosty ground.

“I’m aware I have broken curfew,” the goblin said boldly, though his voice was unsteady beneath his false confidence. “But we have young ones below and they’re starving. I thought for Christmas-”

The goblin faded off as Harry drew his wand to his body and held his other hand up like the goblin’s. He smiled warmly at the creature as he crouched down and pushed the apple back into the bag, before picking it up and offering it back to the goblin. 

“Is this a trick?” the goblin asked warily, not blinking as he eyed Harry suspiciously. 

“No, he’s a genuine creature lover,” Malfoy answered, making Harry jump; he had never even heard Malfoy approach.

“Nobody should go hungry, especially at Christmas,” Harry said with another smile, crouching down so he was at eye level with the goblin. 

The goblin didn’t take his eyes off Harry as he quickly reached out for the bag, as though he expected Harry to pull it away. 

“You’re not like the other wizards,” the goblin said slowly, looking Harry up and down cautiously. 

“You’re not like the goblins I know,” Harry mused. “Do you live down there?” he asked, casting his gaze down to the trap door.

The creature nodded. “Are you from the Americas? Goblins have been treated this way for centuries here; we cannot have wands or use our own magic against humans, and we cannot be out after dark. We have no rights for shelter or food or gold. Wizards are not nice to us. What goblins do you know that live differently to this?”

“Potter,” Malfoy whispered warningly - again - but Harry couldn’t stand by while this goblin was so shaken and terrified by Harry’s very presence as a wizard; he needed hope.

“Where I’m from, goblins look after all the gold. I don’t think they have wands but they can use their own magic, and I respect them - _you_ \- as being highly intelligent. In fact, I think goblins should be _feared_ , which is why so many of my kind oppress you - because they know you can beat them. You shouldn’t stand for unfair treatment; you have voices and you deserve to be heard.”

The goblin’s mouth opened in a wide grin, and he yanked back the trap door and tossed the bag of apples down.

“Thank you, kind wizard,” the goblin beamed. “My name is Urg the Unclean, and I shall never forget your face.”

Urg the Unclean...the name was so familiar to Harry. “Oi, Malfoy,” he hissed under his breath. “Isn’t Urg the Unclean…?”

“The leader of the Goblin Rebellion,” Malfoy finished with a sigh.

Urg, meanwhile, was shouting down the trapdoor, “rejoice my kin! We at last have a wizard’s blessing! They cannot stop us now!” He saluted Harry before jumping down the hole, leaving Harry staring with his mouth hanging open.

“Well, Potter; I should have known you’d be at the source of so many historical events,” Malfoy deadpanned, shoving his shoulder affectionately. His shoulders were even shaking as he tried to suppress his laughter. 

Harry was too stunned to tell Malfoy to stop. “He couldn’t have meant…”

But he never got to finish his sentence as they were jerked forwards as the world turned gold again. The journeys were definitely getting much rougher every time, and that time Malfoy hadn’t even touched the Time-Watch. 

“Shit,” Malfoy muttered when they came back to real life again. 

And the scene they were upon now was very familiar.

It was another battle - Harry didn’t understand why history, both magical and Muggle, was filled was battles - between goblins and wizards, just like the scene in the portrait in Malfoy’s office. Thankfully they were away from the battlelines, not caught in the centre like last time. 

“Malfoy, what date are we at now?” Harry asked faintly.

“ _24, 12, 1750_ ,” Malfoy answered, tapping his Time-Watch three times, pausing, then tapping it again. “Stupid thing. I should-”

“It’s you!” 

Harry and Malfoy turned to see a very familiar goblin - considering they had technically only seen him a couple of minutes ago. Urg was slightly dirtier than before, and he had a large scar running across his face which narrowly missed his left eye. 

“Kin! It is our inspiration and the true leaders of this rebellion!” Urg declared, running forward and grasping Harry and Malfoy’s hands in turn.

“I really wouldn’t say we’re-” Harry started, but Urg cut him off with a brilliant smile.

“Fear not, wizard. They will never besmirch their history by naming a wizard as a leader of the Goblin Rebellion, but we will know the truth.” Urg saluted Harry once more, and raised his sword into the air. “For the rights of goblins everywhere; we fight!”

Urg ran off into the midst of the battle, leaving a gaping Harry behind. Left speechless, all he could do was point towards the fight and fail any attempts at speech.

Malfoy was making a funny noise, almost like he was crying, but when Harry turned towards him he discovered that Malfoy was laughing - quite hysterically, in fact.

“Potter, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Malfoy managed to say despite his desperate need for breath. He wiped his streaming eyes and clutched his side, still unable to quite stop his laughter. “This is the second war you’ve caused by secondary means.”

And if they counted his pre-birth prophecy as being Voldemort’s trigger…”And both before I was even born.”

Harry locked eyes with Malfoy, and he couldn’t help it; he started laughing too. 

They were still laughing even as the world turned gold around them and the sounds of goblins fighting faded away.

 

***

“Damn thing,” Malfoy muttered, tapping angrily on his Time-Watch. “It’s going without me even touching anywhere near it.”

“When are we?” Harry asked, looking around with unease.

Their clothes were a lot more modern now - at least from the last century. Malfoy looked like an old man, Harry thought - or rather, his clothes looked like the clothes that elderly Muggle men wore in their time; a simple shirt tucked into very high-waisted trousers. Harry, on the other hand, had really lucked out this time; in basic but well-fitting trousers, and a brown leather pilot bomber jacket. Harry could feel something on his head, and he was pleased to find that it was an aviator hat with furred flaps and goggles on top.

 

They were on a secluded beach, small and rocky, and sheltered from the sun by massive jagged cliffs that loomed above them. 

The main cause for Harry’s concern was that there was nobody else around them; it was like the Time-Watch didn’t care where it sent them anymore. 

“ _18, 09, 1941_ ,” Malfoy answered quietly, looking around before he sank to his knees on the sand. “The cloaking charm has failed, the dials and the Watch are broken, and now it’s sending us to random periods in time. This is just how I wanted to spend my day.”

“But we keep going forward, right?” Harry settled himself onto the ground beside Malfoy, watching as the waves hit the shore with a loud crash. It was windy, and sand blew across their legs as they sat side-by-side. “Do you think eventually it will send us back to our time, or will it overshoot it? Is that possible?”

“No; this device can only show things which have already happened,” Malfoy answered, seeming more sure of himself as he spoke. “Even if the time jumps slow down, we’re still headed towards our own time. We’re not stuck in the past; we just have to wait it out.” A smile broke onto Malfoy’s face, and Harry was surprised to see that it was directed towards him. “Honestly, Potter; I bring you along for defence purposes and you end up chatting to past figures and becoming the catalyst for several major events.” 

Harry shrugged, giving Malfoy a smile of his own. “You should have known better when you thought to ask me to join you; you know nothing ever goes simply for me.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You’re damn right about that. Just try to stay quiet next time we see somebody.”

“Hello,” a new voice said as a man appeared out of thin air. He was tall and slender, with shoulder-length auburn hair and the start of a beard, and dressed in bright purple robes which clashed with his red pointed shoes. Harry had seen this young man in a photograph before, but many other times with an older face.

“Professor Dumbledore,” he gasped before he could help himself, and Malfoy groaned beside him. “Sorry,” Harry muttered quickly. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” Dumbledore said, taking his own seat on the ground in front of them. “Forgive me for eavesdropping; I have been invisible ever since you arrived because I didn’t want to disturb you, but your conversation was far too interesting for me to tune out. It isn’t often I get to meet time-travellers. Is that the device you used?” He pointed towards Malfoy’s Time-Watch and held his hand out, and at Harry’s nod Malfoy gave it to Dumbledore.

“Fascinating,” Dumbledore murmured as he held it up to the sky, shutting one eye as he examined it. “But broken, you say; what a pity. Where are you from, may I enquire? Or should I say when?”

“2005,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes when Malfoy faked a cough. “We’re trying to get back, as you probably overheard.”

“Ah yes, I can imagine,” Dumbledore nodded, passing the Watch back to Malfoy. “I may be able to help fix it, actually. Well not I, personally, but I know a man who could help. I would have to Disillusion you first, however; my acquaintance is somewhat dramatic and is prone to duelling people. He would be more than able to fix your time device once I convince him to, though.”

Malfoy frowned quizzically, but Harry had a feeling he knew what Dumbledore was getting at.

“You mean the Elder Wand?” he said, and Dumbledore’s blue eyes lit up in the way which had always been so comforting to Harry. “Grindelwald’s wand?”

“My, how curious you are!” Dumbledore exclaimed, positively beaming.”You know about that?”

“Mainly just Potter,” Malfoy answered, speaking up for the first time since Dumbledore’s appearance. “If you’re bringing Grindelwald in you better Disillusion us now.”

Dumbledore inclined his head and withdrew his wand, casting the spell over Harry and Malfoy as they all clambered to their feet. 

When Dumbledore seemed satisfied with his work, his pulled a Galleon coin out of his pocket and tapped it with his wand; Hermione wouldn’t be happy to discover that she hadn’t been the first to think of that. 

The waves continued to crash onto the shore and the wind howled as it carried through the air, but nothing else happened. Until Gellert Grindelwald appeared so silently and suddenly that Harry was glad Voldemort had always made his head hurt in warning beforehand. 

Grindelwald didn’t look like a Dark Lord - though admittedly neither had Tom Riddle - with his golden-blond curls which framed a pale face with rosy cheeks. Grindelwald looked...sweet, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

But on closer inspection, there was anger aimed at Dumbledore, yes, but not hatred, like Harry had expected to see.

“You haven’t used that coin in a long time, Albus,” Grindelwald said in a voice which carried a slight accent. “You still carry it?”

“I do, and I imagine it’s for the same reasons you still carry yours,” Dumbledore retorted, smiling brightly at Grindelwald. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I don’t care about propositions,” Grindelwald hissed, brandishing his wand. 

Dumbledore lazily withdrew his. “Must you turn everything into a duel, Gellert? If I win then you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

“If,” Grindelwald agreed. “I find that very unlikely.”

The power from the first spell was so strong that Harry and Malfoy winced as the shock wave brushed through them. Grindelwald and Dumbledore didn’t speak; every spell was nonverbal, and the bright shocks of yellow, orange, and blue were strong and focused, cast impeccably well. 

“Look at the colours of the spells,” Malfoy said quietly, as though there was still a chance that Grindelwald could hear them despite his focus being entirely on Dumbledore.. “There’s no red or green; the most vicious spells are always those colours.”

Also, Harry noticed, despite the fact that Grindelwald was wielding the Elder Wand, Dumbledore was doing a marvellous job at not losing. Part of that was probably due to the fact that Dumbledore was the best wizard the world had seen, Elder Wand or not, but Harry had a feeling that Grindelwald wasn’t trying as hard as he could.

“They said Dumbledore was in love with Grindelwald, didn’t they?” Harry murmured, just as quietly, though it was for Dumbledore’s benefit that he lowered his voice. “Grindelwald is barely trying in this duel. What if he returned those feelings? Do you think you can still love someone after years of hate?”

Malfoy looked deeply into Harry’s eyes, and for the first time Harry realised that the steely grey of Malfoy’s eyes wasn’t constant; there were deep specks of blue close to the pupils. 

“I think you can care for them, certainly,” Malfoy said. Harry wasn’t so sure that Malfoy was talking about the duellists. 

“Even if they’re annoying gits who argue with you constantly and break your things?” Harry pressed, slowly leaning in to Malfoy until their faces were only inches away.

“Even then.”

Harry didn’t know what was happening; they were supposed to hate each other. He had always found Malfoy attractive, yes, but spending time with him had made Harry realise that there was more to Malfoy than being an irritating twat. Malfoy was admittedly still irritating at times, but he also had a witty sense of humour and harboured a secret caring side...and his lips looked so soft…

Another shock wave had them off their feet, sending Harry sprawling on top of Malfoy.

He groaned and shook his head, spitting his hair and sand out of his mouth as his attention was diverted back to Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Dumbledore was the evident winner - straight backed and chin held high - while Grindelwald stood with his hand on his hip, watching Dumbledore carefully. 

“I was intrigued to hear your proposition, Albus,” Grindelwald said impatiently, tapping his fingers on his hip. “So have at it before I change my mind.”

Dumbledore smiled in amusement, waving his wand over Harry and Malfoy as he removed the Disillusionment from them. Harry felt his cheeks burn red as he quickly moved off Malfoy and got to his feet.

“I have met some time travellers,” Dumbledore said cheerfully. “They’ve come back using their own device.”

“Time travellers, hmm?” Grindelwald repeated, walking towards them. His eyes lingered on Harry’s scar, and Harry couldn’t help but inwardly groan - even in the past he had people staring at his forehead. “That’s a curse scar,” Grindelwald observed. 

“I was cursed,” Harry shrugged, deciding against going into the details in case Grindelwald wanted to test Harry’s luck against the Killing Curse; Harry had a feeling he wouldn’t get third time lucky.

Grindelwald smiled coldly before turning his gaze on Malfoy’s Time-Watch. “You’re of the Malfoy family, are you not? How does the watch work?”

“I am Malfoy on my paternal line and Black on my maternal,” Malfoy answered somewhat smugly, puffing his chest up and deflating it when he realised that Grindelwald didn’t look impressed. “It sends you back to a scene of the past, that you can interact with but not cause any differences unless it already happened.” Here, Malfoy shot Harry a pointed look. “You turn the dials to a day, month and year, and it’s activated by the verbalisation of a location. Because of certain events, however.” There came another look from Malfoy. “The Watch is broken and it keeps sending us to random time periods.”

“I looked it over and don’t see any way of how to fix it,” Dumbledore said gently, pulling a sweet from his pocket and putting it in his mouth. “I thought you might have the means to help.”

“Using your wand,” Harry added pointedly, and Grindelwald’s eyes widened as he turned on Dumbledore.

“You told them…?” he started, but Harry cut him off mid-accusation.

“I already knew about the Elder Wand, and all the other Hallows,” he said. “I owned all three and was the Master of Death at one point.” Malfoy began choking and Harry absently patted him on the back. “And I know for a fact that you can fix our device with that wand.”

Grindelwald held his finger over his chin as he examined Harry with a smile on his face. “A boy with a pretty face, a curse scar, and intimate knowledge of the Hallows; how could I refuse you? Do we ever meet in your time?”

Harry shook his head. “I distantly saw you die, but that’s it.”

“Potter!” Malfoy hissed. 

“You outlive Dumbledore,” Harry hastily added without thinking, and Malfoy screamed into his hands. 

Dumbledore continued to smile, and Grindelwald laughed humorlessly. “You two amuse me,” he murmured as he gestured for Malfoy to hold up the Time-Watch. He tapped it with his wand, and gold dust swirled around it while Grindelwald twisted the dials; the dials on Harry’s Watch began spinning of their own accord. “I hope you live. London.”

Then the golden tunnel was back, but this time it was as smooth as the first journey, relaxing almost. 

The London they appeared in was anything but relaxing. It was quiet and there weren’t nearly as many people around as there usually was on London’s streets, even for a late evening. It was unnerving, especially as several of the buildings around them had been reduced to rubble; it was _eerie_.

Harry looked down to study the date on his Watch, frowning when he realised that his clothes hadn’t changed. The dials read _15, 04, 1941_ ; only a few months before their meeting with Dumbledore and Grindelwald. 

“I would say Grindelwald took the news of time travelling quite well, but I suppose when you’re around Dumbledore a lot you grow used to the weirdness,” Malfoy mused, sounding a lot less concerned than Harry felt; something was just _off_.

“Why do you think he sent us here?” Harry wondered aloud, focused on Grindelwald’s last words; _I hope you live_.

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but his words were drowned out as a loud siren blasted through the streets. The change in the people on the street was immediate, and they all started running away in fear.

Poor Malfoy looked completely bewildered, and it was lucky that Harry had paid attention in Muggle primary school. 

“He sent us to the _fucking_ Blitz,” Harry hissed angrily, grabbing hold of Malfoy’s wrist to pull him along as he ran in the direction that everyone else was going. “We need to get inside, Malfoy; now!”

“Why?” Malfoy whined in protest, but his speed had picked up after hearing the panic in Harry’s voice. 

They hurried down the steps to an underground station, where a mass of people were already camped out on the platform and on the tracks. Malfoy looked horrified as he took in the scene, and Harry gently pulled him to patch of ground for them to sit on. 

The air sirens were still blasting outside, and the Muggles looked terrified as they waited for them to stop.

“What’s going on, Potter? What’s a blitz?” Malfoy questioned, freezing when the roar of planes was heard from the outside, the chugging of a machine gun along with it. 

“It’s the Muggle’s war; World War Two,” Harry answered, pressing closely against Malfoy as an explosion nearby shook the top of the underground station. The Muggles around them gasped and cried, holding each other closely. “They got bombed a lot here; that siren means you get into shelter until it stops, otherwise you could be injured or killed. It’s important Muggle history; maybe they should put that on the curriculum.”

“It’s History of _Magic_ , Potter,” Malfoy pointed out. “That’s what Muggle Studies is for.” 

Another wave of planes flew other, and they waited in silence for a long time, listening to the sound of sobbing, planes, guns and explosions, until the siren finally stopped wailing.

Even then very few Muggles dared to venture out of the underground. Most were watching the stairs fearfully, as though they expected the siren to start blaring again. 

“So do we just go home now?” Harry asked. “Obviously the Time-Watch works again.”

Malfoy nodded. “I guess. Or is there anything else you want to do? We could go and witness your birth; I bet people would kill to see the Golden Boy’s first breath of life.”

“My birth wasn’t anything special; it was my parent’s deaths that did it,” Harry murmured quietly. “Although...I never went to their funeral; my parent’s, I mean. We could...but I don’t even know the date they were buried.”

“The fifth of November,” Malfoy answered automatically, wincing when another explosion shook the walls around them. “Father used to throw firework celebrations when he was trying to build up his public image. He used to complain after everyone had gone home, saying how it was a Muggle celebration and if it hadn’t been for the _Potters_ being buried on the same day then wizards wouldn’t have picked up on it.”

“So we can go?” Harry asked hopefully.

Malfoy shrugged and smiled. “One more usage gets me my minimum requirement.” 

Malfoy began to turn the dials on his Watch, but Harry laid his hands on Malfoy’s to stop him. The touch was warm and comforting, and Harry pulled it away before Malfoy could notice.

“I feel bad about leaving these people down here,” Harry muttered, looking at the mothers huddled together with their crying children, and the old, weathered men who were trembling as they shut their eyes. “It doesn’t seem fair that we can just go.”

“This is their presence, but it’s our history,” Malfoy said, biting his lip as he gaze swept their surroundings. “The next generation are going to look back on us and think ‘thank Merlin I wasn’t alive when You-Know-Who was’. That’s how time works; it’s unfair but there’s nothing we can do; they had their problems, we had ours, and the people who come after us will suffer, too. Now dials, Potter; come on.”

***

Last time Harry had been in Godric’s Hollow’s graveyard, it had been dark and the ground had been covered in a thin layer of snow. 

It was different in the light of day. The sun was shining which gave a false sense of warmth on a chilly November day, and the ground had peaks of green grass underneath a swarm of red and yellow leaves which had fallen from the two large trees which sheltered the graveyard.

Harry and Malfoy were stood underneath one of the said trees, watching a large group of people gathered around two open graves which were placed side-by-side.

Malfoy had offered to stand close by - their cloaking charm was working fine again - but Harry hadn’t wanted to. He had heard a million times about what great people his parents were and how it was a shame that they had died so young, but how brilliant their sacrifice had been. Harry didn’t need to hear that again, but he had never had chance to see his parents laid to rest, and he wanted to be as alone as he could be for that. 

There were only a few faces in the gathered crowd which Harry recognised. An ashen-faced Dumbledore led the service, while a silent, utterly broken looking Remus knelt by the graveside. Hagrid and McGonagall stood together with tears streaming down their cheeks, but otherwise the rest of the people were strangers. Harry wondered if they had been friends of his parents, or if they simply wanted to see the burial of the people who had given life to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry absently reached his hand out to grab Malfoy, and Malfoy didn’t pull away. They shared a look out of the corner of their eyes, and then Malfoy’s fingers tightened around Harry’s, comforting and warm. A tear escaped Harry’s eyes despite his desperate attempts to hold them in, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away and Malfoy didn’t comment. 

They watched in silence as Dumbledore finished his speech and most of the strangers left. Remus didn’t seem to want to move, even as Hagrid began to fill the graves with dirt, and it was only Malfoy’s hand in Harry’s which stopped him running to give Remus a hug.

As the crowd finally dispersed from the graveyard’s gate, a lone mourner remained looking on. Harry hadn’t paid her much attention before - her black veiled hat had disguised her face and he hadn’t been focused on the crowd anyway - but now that she was alone he saw that it was his Aunt Petunia.

Through his tears, Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“Everything alright, Potter?” Malfoy asked warily.

“I’m alright,” Harry reassured. “Let’s go home.”

 

***

After they had returned to their own time, Hermione was there waiting for them.

Malfoy had confirmed that they had been to five different historical times and events, and that the Time-Watch was a great invention and worked well, but needed a few tweaks to make sure that no physical harm could come to the Watches. They had a slight _issue_ , Malfoy had said, but nothing to worry about. 

What Hermione didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, the Elder Wand was probably the best thing that could have happened to the Time-Watches. 

That had been almost a week ago, and things had been very boring since. To Harry’s surprise, he actually found himself missing Malfoy’s company. Harry loved his friends, but Malfoy was a breath of fresh air, and he made Harry feel good about himself. Malfoy had also made appearances in several of Harry’s dreams and fantasies - and by several he meant all; he just couldn’t get Malfoy out of his head.

So when Malfoy appeared at Harry’s front door one night, Harry didn’t even mind when Malfoy barged straight past him with Hermione’s textbook in his hands. 

“Have you read this yet, Potter?” Malfoy asked as he settled himself on Harry’s sofa.

“Please, come in; make yourself comfortable,” Harry muttered sarcastically, gesturing to the living room.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a no.” 

Harry nodded.

“Well I decided to actually read it after I spent too much time looking at that painting in my office; you know the one with the Goblin Rebellion battle scene?” Malfoy continued, waiting for Harry to nod again. “The men in the painting are blond and dark-haired, and the dark-haired one looks like he hadn’t seen a comb for several years.”

Ignoring the jibe about his hair, Harry was instantly on board with the theory he suspected Malfoy was getting at. “You think it’s us?”

Malfoy nodded, his lips pressed together tightly. “According to this book, Urg the Unclean often referenced two male lovers, one golden-haired and the other raven-haired , who inspired the goblins to rebel.”

“Lovers?” Harry spluttered, sitting beside Malfoy and grabbing the book from him. He flipped to the page about goblins, where the inspirational lovers were indeed mentioned.

“That’s not all,” Malfoy said with an amused smile. “The book says that Salazar Slytherin often spoke of being visited by a demon in the form of a boy who had eyes the colour of the Killing Curse. The chapter about the royal family explains how it’s believed that a member of the Malfoy family and his male whore were the ones responsible for the treason - it’s no wonder my father approved of the betrayal so much. And then there’s some excerpts from the notes Grindelwald kept, and he described meeting someone who claimed to have been the Master of Death, which he used as evidence to recruit new followers. We - though mostly you - have made history all this time and we never even knew it.”

“Shit,” Harry murmured as he frantically turned all the pages of the books and found Malfoy’s words to be true. “Why did everyone think that we were lovers? Or that I was a whore?”

“Perhaps we look good together,” Malfoy shrugged, looking Harry up and down suggestively. “I think you’d compliment myself very well - I’d certainly pay to have you.”

“Who are we to argue with the history books?” Harry dared, looking at Malfoy through his lashes. He shuffled closer to Malfoy, laying his hand on top of his. “What do you think to our history?”

“History’s history,” Malfoy said. “We make our own future. Do you want to go for dinner?”

Harry nodded eagerly. “Indian?”

“Too spicy,” Malfoy frowned. “French?”

“Too fancy.” Harry pulled a face.. “Italian?”

“Italian’s good,” Malfoy agreed. 

“I think that’s the first thing we’ve ever agreed on,” Harry said with a grin, tilting his head as Malfoy’s face moved closer to his.

“I can think of one more thing,” Malfoy murmured as he closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together. 

It was the first kiss of many in a new history.

**Author's Note:**

> You can leave your comments here or on [ Livejournal.](http://hd-collab.livejournal.com/8165.html) :)


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